


An Oppor-tuna-ty

by fictionalportal



Series: Back to Beacon: Bees Edition [1]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Beacon Academy, Blake's working through some shit u know, Canon Compliant, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Missing Scenes, Slice of Life, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, and they're still in their first term at school, basically starts at the end of vol 1 in terms of story, because i miss the simpler times at Beacon, beeeeeeeeeeees, lots of bad puns from Yang, whoops there's some angst now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 03:08:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18241169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionalportal/pseuds/fictionalportal
Summary: "So...you came back to the room just to make sure I ate dinner?” Blake asked slowly."On the battlefield, Yang is relentless strength, an unstoppable force. When she starts to show her softer side, Blake's not sure how to handle it.A series of extra scenes from RWBY and JNPR's time at Beacon. BMBLB-centric.





	An Oppor-tuna-ty

Quiet.

For the first time since Blake started at Beacon, she was blissfully alone in her room. No awkward introductions, no small talk, no twisting in her stomach when she inevitably lied to strangers about who she was and where she was from. Just...quiet. Her teammates were all out, probably socializing or sparring (or snarking off about proper form, in the case of the Schnee heiress). Blake had their shared dorm all to herself.

As was her habit whenever she arrived in a new place, she’d already combed through the campus several times. She’d found all of her classrooms, explored several emergency evacuation routes, even stumbled across a few very much occupied makeout spots--but she had yet to discover a decent place to read in peace. Outside of class hours, there were people in her room more often than not. Her teammates and their friends were always around. The library was ostensibly an option, but it was usually full of gregarious first years barely even pretending to do homework. It was impossible to find a corner that a team hadn’t already claimed, and Blake preferred to study alone without the threat of intermittent conversation lurking in the stacks.

The one time she’d gone to the library with her own teammates, they’d talked her into playing a board game. Ruby’s valiant efforts to bring the weeks-old team together were nothing but well-intentioned, Blake knew, but they still put her on edge. After everything had gone down at the docks, they knew about her heritage and her past with the White Fang, but she wasn’t exactly enticed by the chance to spill the more specific details of her life in games like truth or dare. As far as she was concerned, these people were still mostly strangers to her. Plus, the longer she spent in social settings, the stronger her urge to crawl into bed and wrap up in a blanket became.

For now, she would lose herself in _The Brigand’s Heartbeat_ and cherish the stillness that was such a rare commodity here.

And then the doorknob turned.

Blake felt the precious dregs of tranquility slip out of her grasp as the door opened. When a flash of yellow and orange came through the frame, Blake felt her focus slip. She re-read the same sentence about _unrelenting, steely eyes_ three times before giving in and glancing up. Yang always made an entrance, even in sweatpants.

Yang’s eyes brightened when she saw her partner. “Hey, Blake. Did you eat yet?”

Blake shook her head and returned to staring at the page in front of her. She had absolutely no intention of going anywhere. The outlaw vigilante had just rescued the pirate queen from certain death at the hands of a lecherous captor. If Blake knew anything about romance novels--and, oh, did she--this was no time for a bookmark.

She managed to ignore the mattress dipping beside her, but that warm, easy voice was harder to write off. _As deft fingers charmed each leather knot loose--_

“The cafeteria’s still open. Feel like grabbing dinner?”

Blake’s traitorous eyes refused to let her continue with the scene, fixating instead on the way the warm lamplight brushed Yang’s cheekbones with gold. When Yang smiled like that (which is to say, at all), did the sun ever get jealous? With the lights off and Yang close, Blake guessed she’d still be able to make out the inky words on the pale pages.

Were her cheeks as flushed as they felt? Hopefully not. She decided to blame the outlaw for spending a painstakingly long time untying the pirate queen’s corset.

“No thanks,” Blake replied.

Yang frowned. “You sure? I’ve heard the fish sticks here are pretty good.”

Blake’s book snapped shut. “I’m in.”

“Whoa. Fish beats romance that easily?” That smirk would have been frustrating on anyone else’s face. On Yang’s, it was like a rogue spark, dangerous and infuriating.

Unwilling to let herself analyze that particular thought any further, Blake sprang up. “The pirate queen can wait.”

“Careful. I’ve heard she’s pretty impatient,” Yang joked, rising from her seat. She sauntered over to her closet and started sifting through her extensive jacket collection. As she reached her arms out, her orange tank top rode up just enough to reveal her hipbone.

It wasn’t unusual for Yang’s midriff to be on display, but--well, Blake was sorely unprepared for it at that particular moment. The sudden flash of skin made Blake’s ears stand up straight, pushing against her bow reflexively. When Yang looked at her again, Blake forced herself to still.

“What?” Yang asked, gaze flickering up to the hidden ears on Blake’s head. Granted, Yang had been nothing but supportive when Blake's Faunus heritage had come to light, but sometimes Blake wished it were still a secret. Her ears tended to say things that she would never otherwise broadcast.

“I--thought we were going to dinner,” Blake said dumbly.

Yang plucked a cropped, light brown, leather jacket from a hanger and swung it around her shoulders. “It’s chilly out.”

Blake wasn’t sure why anyone would wear a cropped jacket in such cool weather, but she certainly wasn’t going to start an argument about it. Fish was much more important than practical clothing choices.

Upon exiting the dorm, Blake immediately regretted not putting on her own coat. She’d been a bit...distracted. She was shivering by the time they arrived at the cafeteria. Fortunately, it was almost eight o’clock, so the main dinner rush had long since passed. She recognized a few people from their trial in the forest or from classes. A few weeks into the semester, she was finally starting to remember names. The world-famous Pyrrha Nikos sat next to Ruby’s friend Jaune, who was trying to coax a red-haired girl--Nora?--off of the table. There was another boy with them, but Blake had barely heard him talk. He could probably say the same about her.

“Hey, guys!” Yang called out to Jaune’s team. Of course she was already friends with them all. In retrospect, Blake should have anticipated something like this. Yang was incontrovertibly outgoing (it was one of the things that drew Blake to her in the first place). She made meeting new people look so easy. Blake, however, wasn’t quite comfortable with the idea of branching out just yet.

“Um, Yang--”

“Grab a tray. I’ll save you a seat.” Yang strode away across the room.

As Blake picked up a tray, the smell of food filling her nostrils made her realize just how hungry she was. She was lucky Yang showed up when she did, otherwise Blake might have accidentally missed cafeteria hours altogether. The growling in her stomach, Blake imagined, would have only grown more persistent throughout the night. Weiss would never have stood for it. Violating quiet hours _and_ interrupting her beauty sleep? _Positively unacceptable._

Blake smiled to herself. Her teammates were certainly an...eclectic group, but even the Schnee heiress made for tolerable company at this point. Other teams like CRDL were dreadfully uniform when it came to personality and fighting style, and Blake was relieved that she hadn’t ended up on such a boring (and bigoted) squad.

Once Blake had acquired a satisfactory quantity of fish sticks and something that resembled a salad, she meandered in the general direction of the table Yang had chosen. Something encouraged her to take her time and circle all the way around the outside of the cafeteria.

Just as Blake arrived at the seat next to Yang, the golden-haired girl smashed her elbow down on top the table. Blake jumped at the sound.

“Let’s go, Nora,” Yang challenged. “Rematch. No way I’m losing this time.”

“Oh, you’re on!” Nora finally leaped down from the table and took a seat next to the quiet boy. She mirrored Yang’s vicious smile and clasped her hand.

The dark-haired boy shook his head. “Nora, please.”

“Can we get through one meal without a fight?” Pyrrha pleaded. “For Glynda’s sake.”

“Consider it dinner and a show,” Nora retorted, already flexing to hold Yang’s arm in place.

Yang smirked. “We should start charging. Ren, wanna be our bookie?”

Ren just sighed.

"He'll do it!" Nora insisted.

Blake sat down. She wanted to crack some joke about how a cafeteria fight club might not be the most sound business venture, but by the time she’d thought it through the conversation had already moved on. She settled for nibbling at a piece of broccoli. She might have been hungry coming in, but nothing killed her appetite faster than being blindsided by social interaction.

Jaune took it upon himself to referee the match. “Nora, keep your elbow on the table.”

“Your rules mean nothing to me!” Nora shrieked.

“Yeah, this is street arm wrestling. Anything goes,” Yang added.

Just then, there was a dull thud under the table. Nora yelped, and Yang took the opportunity to smack her hand down onto the table.

“Yes!” Yang shouted, throwing her arms up in the air.

"Wait, isn't that cheating?" Pyrrha commented.

To Blake’s surprise, one of Yang's arms wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her closer. “Maybe I just have a good luck charm.”

“Noooooo, avenge me, Pyrrha...” Nora wailed, letting her forehead fall next to her mostly empty plate. Ren patted her shoulder.

“Perhaps another time,” Pyrrha offered. Coming from anyone else, it might have sounded obnoxious, but Blake was pretty sure that Pyrrha was physically incapable of being rude.

Jaune stood up. “Alright, team, we have, uh...” He glanced down at Pyrrha and she mouthed a reminder to him. “Training! We have training,” he finished. As his team gathered their trays, he nodded to Yang and Blake. “Good to see you guys.”

“This isn’t over,” Nora growled at Yang as Ren gently escorted her out. Pyrrha left them behind with a simple, regal wave.

Blake was suddenly very aware of the fact that she and Yang were sitting alone on the same side of the table. It felt strange, especially with Yang’s arm still draped over her shoulder. The thought of getting up and moving crossed Blake’s mind, but she dismissed it. Overthinking, as usual.

When Yang’s arm dropped away, Blake realized that she’d been holding her breath and inhaled deeply.

“How’re those fish sticks?” Yang asked.

“Oh, I--I haven’t tried them,” Blake replied. She tried to think of something else to say. “Did you want one?”

“Nah, I already ate.”

Blake cocked her head to the side. “You did?”

“I came right after Oobleck’s class. Watching him zip around the room like that makes me secondhand hungry.”

A whisper of a laugh snuck past Blake’s lips. “So you came back just to arm wrestle?”

“You know it,” Yang grinned, leaning one elbow on the table and resting her head on her hand. “Plus, you’ve gotta keep your strength up in case we get attacked by Grimm--or Weiss before coffee.”

“Or Nora,” Blake teased. “I'm afraid you made a very powerful enemy tonight.” 

Yang plucked a stick of celery from Blake’s plate and pointed it at her. “Exactly.” A loud crunch followed. “Ruby used to do the same thing, you know.”

“What? Start fights in the cafeteria?”

“Actually, she did do that once. Proudest day of my life,” Yang joked wistfully. “Some jerk at Signal wouldn’t stop pulling on her hood and she kinda snapped. Pulled Crescent Rose out right in the middle of the lunchroom.”

Blake didn’t bother to hide the fact that she was enraptured with Yang’s very clear adoration for the memory. “She didn’t."

“Oh, she did. When she started there, she used to spend hours in my dad’s shop working on her designs. She basically lived at her workbench once they started combat training. Always fixing stuff and making adjustments. My dad was working pretty late hours back then, so I kinda became Ruby’s personal chef.”

The thought of Yang cooking was enough to make Blake smile, but the fact that she was so committed to taking care of her sister was another level of endearing.

“I’m pretty sure she stayed up all night a couple times by accident. Kind of like you with your books.” Yang chomped down the rest of the celery stick.

“So...you came back to the room to make sure I ate dinner?” Blake asked slowly.

Yang shrugged and stole another piece of celery. “Considering you’ve barely touched your food, my mission isn’t over.”

Blake looked down at her plate. Honestly, she’d forgotten about the fish sticks. Her stomach was busy doing flips every time Yang spoke. Or smiled. _Or breathed, really._ When that last thought cropped up, Blake wondered if she might have been spending a little too much time with those romance novels.

“Actually, though. Are you okay?” Yang asked, her voice softening.

With a deep breath, Blake replied. “It’s been a busy couple of weeks.” That was an understatement. Between her teammates finding out about her past, stopping the White Fang at the docks, and trying to just keep up with coursework, Blake was exhausted--but that didn’t mean she was willing to slow down. Taking a break wasn’t exactly in her vocabulary. When she started things, she finished them, and that kind of dedication was what made her such a valuable asset to the White Fang in the first place. Abandoning the organization was the hardest and most important choice she’d ever made, but sometimes she would remember the fact that she’d just...run away. Slipped out while Adam was on a mission, leaving behind not even a shadow. With the White Fang back in her life--as enemies--she was being forced to confront that decision for the first time, and she doubted either side would jump at the chance to commend her actions.

Yang nodded as if she could sense the layers of Blake’s anxieties. “Sometimes I feel like there’s barely time to think, let alone make the trip over here to sit for an hour. I usually carry a couple extra protein bars with me, so let me know if you ever want one.”

Blake knew that Yang would likely extend the same offer to any of their teammates and friends, but it still made Blake’s chest tighten. It was sweet. She liked this side of Yang, the unconditionally caring, generous, way-too-good-to-be-true side.

“Alright, Blake. In your expert opinion, do Beacon’s famous fish sticks live up to the hype?”

Blake poked her fork into the crispy, golden-brown crumb coating. Truthfully, they didn’t look all that bad for cafeteria food--but the first taste changed her mind entirely. It was like someone had crammed overcooked imitation crab into a hot, greasy shell. Even after unwillingly gulping it down, Blake could feel the oil on her lips. Her tongue smacked against the roof of her mouth in a futile effort to rid her tastebuds of the unpleasant lingering flavor.

“That bad?” Yang’s eyebrows rose. There was something in her eyes that made Blake feel utterly awful for not liking the food.

“They’re...not what I’m used to,” Blake tried, hoping it would be enough to wipe that twinge of sadness from her partner’s face.

Clearly determined to find out for herself, Yang picked up another fish stick and wolfed it down in one bite. A moment later, her disgusted expression mimicked Blake’s. “Question. Did this poor fish live in a deep fryer instead of water? Sorry, but that is terrible. A piece of _carp_ , if you will.”

Blake tried not to laugh--she knew that would only elicit more bad puns. Unfortunately, Yang took Blake’s sarcastic eye roll as encouragement enough.

“I don’t _minnow_ who made these...”

“Yang.”

“But I _barracuda_ done _Betta_.”

“Okay, that was a stretch.”

Yang’s cocky smile was back. “You’re right. It was a- _trout_ -cious.”

Blake shoved her partner’s shoulder playfully. “Your awful jokes are ruining my appetite.”

“Awful? I think they’re _fin_ -tastic.”

“Ugh.” That stupid, perfect grin was going to send Blake to an early grave. Without thinking, she dropped her forehead onto Yang’s shoulder. She felt Yang stiffen and recoiled immediately. “Sorry,” Blake muttered.

“For what?” Yang asked, genuine confusion etched into the crease between her eyebrows.

Blake, who usually prided herself on her love for words, found herself suddenly lacking the appropriate vocabulary to express any of her current emotions. “I...everything. For dragging you back to the cafeteria, for getting you all involved with Torchwick and the--” her voice broke. If she started talking about the White Fang, she wouldn’t be able to stop, and eventually she would have to talk about _him_ and all the awful things he'd done, she'd done, they'd done together. How were her teammates going to look at her when they found out how much more there was to her history?

“Blake, I don’t know why you’re apologizing,” Yang replied, filling the cracked silence Blake had left. “We’re a team, remember? And you’re not the only one who’s got beef with that Torchwick guy.”

Ruby had fought him first, that was true. But Blake’s fight was personal; why didn’t her team understand that?

“And,” Yang continued, “You’re my partner. It doesn’t matter if we’re up against another team in sparring class or an unhinged terrorist with bad taste in hats.”

Blake choked out a laugh.

“Your battles are mine, too.”

Blake swore she could feel the cocoon around her heart crack open. A dazzling heat pumped through her veins like she’d received a transfusion from the sun itself, and she glanced down at her chest just to make sure it wasn’t actually glowing with the bright comfort of Yang’s declaration. She really had chosen the best possible partner, and it was little things like this that left her with less and less room to doubt. Did Yang even know that she could calm Blake’s rampant worries with so few words? Somehow, it just rolled right off her tongue like it was as natural as exhaling. Blake wondered if she herself could someday find the courage to so openly admit how much she cared about the people she loved. Maybe she could follow her partner’s example.

Yang started to speak again. “So, next time--”

Blake crushed her in a hug.

“Um, Blake? You’re kinda squishing me.”

“Sorry.” Blake felt her face flush and loosened her grip. Before she could pull away, Yang’s arms circled around her waist and kept her close.

“I didn’t say you had to stop,” Yang half-whispered into Blake’s hair.

Blake held on, allowing herself to indulge in the all-encompassing warmth that was this wonderful, incredible girl.

It was Yang who finally broke the embrace. For a fleeting moment, Blake worried that she’d make a mistake, been too daring. But the beaming smile on Yang’s face erased that fear from existence.

 _Should I say something?_ Blake wondered. _Probably. She looks like she wants me to say something._ “I...uhm...”

“Blake,” Yang said, that mischievous glint back in her eye. “Seems like you’re--”

“Yang, no--”

 _“Floundering,”_ Yang finished, far too proud of herself.

Blake smacked her hand against her forehead. “Why.”

“Don’t worry, you’re only stuck with me for three and a half more years,” Yang teased.

Honestly, Blake hoped she would have to listen to Yang’s terrible jokes for much, much longer than that. The look on Yang's face made Blake wonder if her own expression was saying as much.

“Okay. But really,” Yang began, “those fish sticks are way worse than my puns.”

“Agreed,” Blake admitted. “I think I’ll stick with salad tonight.”

“Can I make it up to you?” Yang asked.

Blake tilted her head to the side. “Make what up to me?”

“I mean, I promised you good fish. If you’re up for it sometime, Ren says there’s a really good place out in Vale’s commercial district.”

“Really?”

“Apparently it’s ‘Menagerie certified,’” Yang said, air-quoting the restaurant’s slogan.

Blake tried not to think about the way her heartbeat picked up. “Yeah, okay. Let’s do it.”

“Awesome. Maybe this weekend?” Yang proposed, earning a subtle nod from Blake. There wasn’t even a hint of trepidation in Yang’s voice, which Blake took as reassurance that this would be a strictly platonic outing. No reason to think (or wish) otherwise, right?

***

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! what scenes do YOU want to see? let me know in the comments <3
> 
> *rating change due to some pretty heavy discussion topics.


End file.
